Prey For the Hunter
by JP McClendon
Summary: New Chapter up! Once a Hunter has hunted everything worth hunting, where does he turn to find something new that will challenge his skills? This is a Work in Progress, Please Read and Review.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **I don't own the Predator universe, 20th Century Fox does. I own only those characters created for this fiction. Have a nice day.

**Prologue**

"I grow weary of hunting humans. They bring no sport. They provide no surprises. They never learn. So too do I grow tired of hunting the Serpents. They may be cunning and fierce, but in the end they are just animals acting out their primal programming. I need something more. Something better. I need to hunt something that could hunt me back. Something that could conceivably defeat me, at least in theory. I know where I could find such prey, though I doubt my Hunt Master would approve of my doing so. Still, the excitement provided by such a hunt would be worth the risk. If I succeed, no, when I succeed, I will be remembered for all time by not only my clan, but all clans. I will be remembered as a Hunter among Hunters. Many will strive to duplicate my perfection, but they will fail, for only I am perfection. Only I am capable of this. Only I would even dare. Only I must do this."

Xothax, the master Hunter, stood up from in front of his tribute shrine and stretched muscles that hadn't moved in hours. As he did so, he stared at himself in a mirror above the shrine. His age was in the early stages of showing. His mandibles bore many runes, some old and some not, from his years going on hunts for his clan. His dreadlocks were all ornately decorated with jewelry and even a few feathers. Many scars adorned his body like trophies and he was proud of every one of them. He was especially proud of three small horizontal scars he had under his left eye. They represented his success in a series of three ritualistic hunts from when he was younger. After he was done he walked over to his weapons rack and looked over his arsenal. Every weapon on display on the rack was almost as old as he was, but still functioned as if brand new. With held breath, he opened the rack and reverently considered each of his weapons. First he withdrew a set of three throwing discs that not only gave off a slight hum of energy, but the serrated edged surface of each gave off a faint glow of red. The center section of the discs also had numerous small cuts in it, each one indicating a life that had ended as a result of meeting this weapon. After passing a clawed hand over the blades of the discs, he strapped them to his belt. Next he picked up his shoulder cannon and gave it a look over. It was a noticeably larger caliber than most weapons of this type and significantly heavier as well. As with the discs, it too had many cuts in it to indicate the lives it had taken. With precise movements, he attached the cannon to the mount on the back of his armor. Instantly, the cannon came to life and moved side-to-side and up-and-down as if locking onto some invisible target. Next he pulled out his blade gauntlets and put them on. They were cut the same way that his other weapons were to note their body count. The gauntlet of his right arm was significantly larger than the gauntlet of his left as it not only held a larger pair of claw blades, it also held his medical kit, portable data pad, and nuclear device. When the gauntlets were in place, he flexed his arms to gauge his mobility. Then, with a flex of his forearm muscles, the blades sprang forth and he looked at them in contemplation. The blades were identical except for three very noticeable variations. The blades on his right arm had almost four times the reach that the blades on his left had. They also had a slightly rounded tip to them whereas the blades on his left arm came to a very sharp point. Lastly, the blades on his left were highly decorated by ritualistic runes along their entire surface on both sides. Satisfied that all was well with the blades, he once again flexed his forearms and the blades retracted into the gauntlets. Next he withdrew an elaborately runed knife for which to take trophies from his kills and to mark the weapon that got him the trophy. Though the blade had almost no weight to it, its sharpness was above question. With careful and deliberate movements, he slowly put the knife into a semi-ornate sheath and strapped it to his leg. Then he pulled out his prized possession: his war staff. The center grip was nearly three feet long and ornately decorated with runes, bangles, and ornaments. Around each end were four notches into which the he slid a flat crescent-moon-shaped dart. With a push of a button, the shafts of the war staff sprang out and extended its overall length to nine feet. The shafts bore the distinctive cuts of the kill markings. Near both ends were tied a small pair of feathers. Finally, the ends themselves were claw-shaped and heavily etched with hunting runes. With the press of another button, the ends came to life with white-hot plasma fire that lit up the entire room. After pressing both buttons again, the war staff collapsed to its original size and he strapped it to his other leg, giving it a slight caress after he had done so. Satisfied that his arsenal was enough for him to do what he was about to, Xothax began the slow process of applying his green-and-black full-body-armor. The armor itself was quite old and almost military-grade heavy. Dents, cuts, and hunting runes covered its entire surface and he knew the origin of each one by heart. At long last he reached for his mask, which displayed not only his rank in the clan, but also too the same three horizontal scars under the left eye.

With much ado, he put on his mask and set out from his room. Everyone who saw him moved aside so that he was able to walk unimpeded down the long corridor to his ship. Adolescent members of the clan looked at him in wonder, as they had been weaned on his tales of glory. As the younger members of the clan looked on in awe, the older ones bowed their heads to him respectfully and bade him best luck in his hunt. When at last he reached his ship, saw that two young Hunters were standing in front of the entrance hatch. Though their ritual runes and battle scars were different, it was evident that the two young Hunters were twin brothers. Once Xothax saw them the two young Hunters each put a hand over their heart and bowed their head to him.

"Father," they both said in unison with their heads still lowered. Xothax approached them and put an arm about each of them in a large embrace.

"My sons," he said proudly. "Your father goes now to find the greatest Hunt of his life. The Hunt he will be remembered for."

"And what is that Hunt, Father?" asked one of his sons.

"Yes," said another voice from above them. "Tell, what is this great Hunt you speak of? And why have you not told your Hunt Master of it?"

The three of them broke their embrace to turn and look up at their clan's Hunt Master.

"I have said nothing yet because I do not yet know where I will find this great Hunt," said Xothax. "That is why I go now to search for it."

"Do you mean to go on this Hunt alone?" questioned the Hunt Master.

"I do intend that," said Xothax proudly.

The Hunt Master's mandibles clicked in contemplative thought for a few moments while the others just stared up at him. "Then all luck to you in your search for such a Hunt," the Hunt Master said finally. "Bring honor to this clan."

Xothax bowed his head to the Hunt Master. The Hunt Master returned the bow and then walked away out of sight. Once he was gone, Xothax returned his attention to his sons. "Tell your younger brother that I wish him well," he said to them as he once again embraced them. "On the chance that our paths do not cross again in this life. Also, look after one another, all of you. Bring honor to not only the clan, but to our line as well."

"Father," said his one son. "You have never spoken to us like this before and you have always returned from every Hunt you partake of. Do you feel as though this time may be somehow different?"

"It may very well indeed be different," said Xothax. "And if it is, I want my final words to you both to be that of a Father and not that of a Hunter."

Xothax strengthened his embrace of his sons briefly before letting them go. When he was done, he reached up to a paired bangle on one of his dreadlocks and removed it. With great care, he separated the two pieces to the bangle and handed one piece each to his two sons. "I added this bangle to the others I wear on the day that your mother gave birth to you," he said to them. "It has always symbolized to me that when I hunt you are there by my side. Now that it belongs to the both of you, I hope that you will think of it as me being by your side when you hunt."

Both sons were left speechless by their father's gift to them. All they could do was once again bow to him and part so as to let him pass to his ship. After he opened the hatch, he turned to face them one last time. Putting a hand over his heart, he bowed to them briefly before turning back to the hatch and entering. Moments later, the engines of the ship came to life and the ship exited the hangar bay where it was stowed.

Once out in space and away from the main ship, Xothax plotted a course towards a distant planet where a rival Hunting Clan had exclusive rights.

"My great Hunt begins," he said as he settled in for the long journey.

**To be continued…**


	2. The Hunt Begins

**The Hunt Begins**

A few days later, Xothax found what he was looking for. A large Yautja vessel of the V'xtentin Hunting Clan was present and hovering over LV-943. Changing his flight path to avoid the large vessel, Xothax aimed straight for the planet. As he got closer, a warning display came up on the visor of his mask. The warning flashed the message that the V'xtentin Clan had exclusive hunting rights to this planet and that Xothax needed to leave the area. Xothax chuckled. "The automated warning message to would-be poachers," he said. "Predictable."

Xothax pushed a button on his main control panel and his ship cloaked. As he flew passed the rival clan's main vessel, his mandibles clicked and he let out a low guttural curse under his breath that was directed at the rival clan. Pushing a couple of buttons on his control panel, another display came up on his visor that showed him where the main gathering of rival Yautja on the planet were. "This will be all too easy," he said as he programmed his ship to fly over the gathering area so that he could get a better look. As his ship descended, the engines grew deathly silent and Xothax was able to spot the rival clan's hunting shrine. "I will have to deal with that first." With that, he pushed a few more buttons and landed his vessel, still cloaked, in a grove of trees a few miles away from where the rival clan had set up their hunting shrine. Realizing that he was about to reach the point of no return, Xothax closed his eyes and thought hard about whether or not he would go actually through with his great hunt. For several minutes, he remained in his seat as the pros and cons came quickly to his mind. In the end, he decided that the pros outweighed the cons and he set into motion. As before, he picked up his weapons one-by-one and considered them before reattaching them to their various set places. Once he was ready, he pushed the button on his gauntlet that activated his cloaking device, walked to the exit of his ship, and activated the door. Closing his eyes and letting out one last deep breath to calm his nerves, he counted silently to himself as he waited for the door to fully open. When at last the door was open to him, he moved noiselessly down the ramp and onto the ground. As soon as his weight was off of the walk ramp, the door began to shut on its own. After moving away from his ship, Xothax crouched down and surveyed the terrain. As he looked around, the display on his visor cycled through multiple spectrums so that his gaze missed nothing of what was surrounding him. The terrain was a combination of both forest and rolling grasslands. Interesting, he thought to himself. Both open and concealed terrain. This should make for a good hunt. Now, about that shrine. Something must be done about that. As if on cue, a directional arrow lit up on his helmet's display to inform him of which direction he needed to go and how far he needed to travel before getting there. His mandibles clicked pleasantly and he stood up.

Suddenly, the automated guidance on his shoulder cannon activated and pointed towards movement off to Xothax's left. Spinning about and ready to attack, he quickly discovered that it was simply a small woodland animal that had attracted the attention of his cannon. Letting out a low chuckle, Xothax disengaged his cannon and jumped into a tree. Light as a feather and silent as death he made his way through the branches towards his objective, making sure to leave no trail as he went. Once he was about halfway there, he pushed a button on his gauntlet that caused him to de-cloak and then instantly re-cloak. They won't know what hit them, he thought to himself again. Slowing his progress, he crept ever closer until he was within about a hundred yards of his target. Silently, his helmet switched to a magnified vision mode and he could see everything he desired. In a small clearing surrounded by three deployed sentry guns was a hunting shrine. His mandibles clicked slowly as he observed in quiet contemplation. His helmet switched to another vision mode and the image of three cloaked Military Stalkers came into view. Typical, he thought. Typical defensive pattern for a hunting shrine. Panning his gaze around to check for other, not so typically placed defenses, he was quietly surprised to find nothing else in the area. How arrogant. I will show them the folly of that arrogance, he thought. He looked intently at one of the Stalkers and his helmet brought up a targeting display. With his eyes, he centered the display on the face of the Stalker. Keeping both his body and his eyes perfectly still, he sent an invisible beam from his helmet to the Stalker's so as to scan the Stalker. After about a minute, the targeting display signaled that the beam had concluded its scan. With a grateful internal sigh, Xothax closed his eyes and turned off the beam. Then he pushed a third button on his gauntlet. For an instant, his cloaking device shimmered. I can proceed, he thought. Returning his vision to normal, he began to slowly move forward again. When he had cut his distance to only about fifty yards, he stopped again and crouched on a branch. Once more, his vision mode changed and the Stalkers again came into view. Slowly and quietly, he pulled his discs from his belt and activated them. After pushing a few buttons on the discs and occasionally giving the Stalkers a glance, he threw all three discs out together as one disc. He smiled as he heard them faintly cut through the air on their way to their targets. The Stalkers seemed to hear the sound too, as they were all now looking about intently. Once they were almost there, the discs broke away from one another, activated their laser edges, and sped towards a different Stalker. Then, in unison, the discs beheaded each of the three Stalkers in a single pass. After hitting their targets, the discs once more came back together and returned to their owner. Needless to say, Xothax was extremely pleased. Once he had the discs back in his possession he deactivated them and again strapped them to his belt. Then he jumped down from his perch and strolled confidently up to the shrine. For an instant, the shrine and the sentry guns came to life, but then quickly returned to their standby posture in their original positions. Xothax disengaged his cloaking device and his mandibles clicked his joy. Still clicking, he opened up his gauntlet and produced an interface cable. Then he opened a side panel in the shrine and plugged in the cable. A few seconds later, his gauntlet beeped to signal that a connection to the shrine had been established. After pushing a couple of buttons on his gauntlet, he began to download some of the shrine's data. Once the download was complete, his gauntlet beeped again. All too easy, he thought to himself. This is an inferior clan. Quickly, he ended his connection with the shrine and unplugged the cable. After replacing the cable back into his gauntlet, he closed it up and peered into the panel on the shrine. With a chuckle, he pushed a few of the buttons inside the panel before closing it back up as well. Then he grabbed the heads of the Stalkers, again engaged his cloaking device, and headed out of the clearing, making sure that his trail was at least subtly obvious.

Ten miles away, the V'xtentin Hunting Clan's Guardian of the Hunt's gauntlet beeped. Looking down at the display of his gauntlet, he de-cloaked and put a closed fist into the air. Instantly, every other V'xtentin Yautja near him stopped where they were and de-cloaked. They could all hear the Guardian's mandibles clicking unhappily. "Something is wrong," he said.

"How do you mean?" asked the Keeper of the Hunt.

"The life signs of the three Stalkers left behind to guard the shrine have extinguished," said the Guardian as he continued to look at the display on his gauntlet.

"Are you certain?" asked the Keeper.

"I am," said the Guardian. Then his eyes went wide.

"What is the problem?" asked the Keeper.

"Someone has accessed the shrine's systems."

"Then we go back."

"NO! Continue your hunt. I will take some of my men back to the shrine and we will discover what is happening."

"As you wish."

"In addition, lend me one of your Hunters. I will need his skills to track down whomever has done this."

"Agreed."

The Guardian turned to the very heavily armored military Vanguard at his side. "I leave you in charge of the military members until my return," he said.

"It is my honor, sir," said the Vanguard with a bow of his head.

"Fail me not," he ordered. The Vanguard bowed his head again. Then the Guardian turned to the rest of his men. "Is there a Blazer, a Hydra, and a Vanguard here who wishes to volunteer to return to the shrine with me?"

Without any words spoken, a Blazer, a Hydra, and a Vanguard stepped forward to volunteer. "Excellent," said the Guardian.

"And here is my Hunter," said the Keeper with a gesture to the Hunter that was standing next to him.

"My thanks," said the Guardian with a bow of his head.

The Keeper bowed his head in return then considered his Hunter. "Heed the instructions of the Guardian," he said as he pointed a clawed finger to the Hunter. "You are under his command until your return."

"I obey," said the Hunter with a bow of his head. Without any further word, the Hunter joined the others in the investigation party. Silently he gave the Guardian a respectful bow of his head to acknowledge the Guardian's authority over him. The Guardian nodded his head in return to acknowledge the Hunter's sign of respect for his authority. Then the five of them moved away from the main group and re-cloaked.

The Keeper stood like a statue as he watched the Guardian leave. "Fortune favor you," he said quietly. The he returned his full attention to the remaining Yautja in the hunting party. "We return to the hunt!"

To acknowledge their Keeper's command, the remaining Yautja engaged their cloaking devices. The Keeper clicked his mandibles as he saw those around him vanish from view. When no other Yautja remained before his eyes, the Keeper engaged his own cloaking device and the entire assembly moved onward to continue the hunt.

Elsewhere, Xothax paused on the branch of a tall tree and removed the helmet of his first trophy. Silently pulling out his runed knife, he went to work quickly gutting key pieces of the helmet's circuitry. When he was concluded, he hung one of the pieces of circuitry off the end of the branch, replaced the helmet back onto the Stalker's head, and moved on. Once he had gotten about a half mile he stopped and repeated the process with the second head. When he had finished with the second head, he changed his direction to partially circle back towards the shrine. When he found a spot that he liked, he repeated the whole process again with the third head. After he finished with the third head, he made sure that everything on his person was secure. Once he was satisfied that all was right, he leapt from the branch he was currently on to one above him in another tree. Then he proceeded back towards his ship, again making sure that he left no trail behind him.

Meanwhile, the Guardian and those with him were nearing the shrine. As one, they de-cloaked and approached the clearing. The Blazer took point, with the Vanguard and the Hydra following a few steps behind him, and the Guardian and the Hunter following a few paces behind them. Though the Hunter looked all about as if distracted, he was actually keenly observing everything. Suddenly, something felt wrong. To him it was too quiet.

"We should halt," he said in a very low tone to the Guardian. The Guardian instantly clicked his mandibles in a manner that caused the others in front of him to cease in their tracks immediately.

"Explain," ordered the Guardian in a low, but authoritative tone.

"There is too much quiet," said the Hunter.

"Yautja on a hunt are always quiet," spoke the Hydra.

"Not like this," warned the Hunter. "There is death in this quiet. I know it."

Everyone looked to the Guardian to make a decision. "Heed the Hunter," he said after careful consideration. "That's why I brought him."

The three military Yautja nodded their heads silently to acknowledge the Guardian's order. Then they activated their cloaking devices and turned about to resume their walk. The Hunter felt ill at ease, but followed suit and activated his cloaking device. The Guardian could sense the Hunter's apprehension, but said nothing as he activated his own cloaking device and followed closely behind the rest of the group.

The Blazer continued on point and was the first one into the clearing. Almost immediately, the two sentry guns closest to his position came to life and fired at him. The Vanguard and the Hydra instantly moved back and out of range before they could be targeted. The Guardian and the Hunter saw this and paused as well. Meanwhile, the Blazer was dazed by taking two direct shots in the chest and reeled back before taking a staggering step forward. As soon as he did so, the third sentry gun roared to life and fired upon him as well, followed soon after by the first two again. Though their first blasts did not penetrate his heavy military-grade armor, subsequent shots from the first two guns had no trouble doing so. To make matters worse, his cloaking device then failed. As soon as he came into view, the Shrine roared to life and focused its searing heat beam directly upon him as the sentry guns continued to assault him. Though the Blazer himself could not think clearly enough to react, the defenses of his suit caused his twin laser mounts to jump to life and start spraying the area in a wild arc in a desperate attempt to save the life of their owner. The Hydra moved forward to aid his counterpart, but he was grabbed by the Vanguard.

"It's too late," he said to the Hydra. "He's done for."

"NO!" said the Hydra as he struggled against the awesomely powerful grip of the Vanguard. Behind them, the Guardian and the Hunter stood equally powerless to lend their clanmate any aid. The Blazer was felled a few seconds later. The whole ambush had lasted less than a minute. Sensing the death of their target, the sentry guns and the shrine fell silent and returned to standby mode to recharge and repair. The Vanguard relaxed his grip on the Hydra and the Hydra pulled free. After disengaging his cloaking device, he frantically pulled off his helmet and considered his fallen friend with his own two eyes as he dropped to his knees. The others could see the grief and anger on the Hydra's face and allowed him his moment of despair. After a few tense seconds, the Hydra threw back his head, arched his back, stretched his arms and hands out to his sides, and shouted a sorrowed and angry cry to the heavens.

The Guardian de-cloaked and put a consoling hand on the Hydra's shoulder. "Your brother will be sorely missed by the clan," he said sympathetically.

"I want the head of whoever did this!" shouted the Hydra.

"I expect nothing less," said the Guardian.

"Sir," spoke the Vanguard. The Guardian said nothing, but merely turned his head to signal that his attention was being given to the Vanguard. "We will have to destroy the shrine and the sentry guns if we are to continue our investigation."

"We do what we must," said the Guardian as he patted the Hydra on the shoulder before moving away.

"I can get close enough to destroy the shrine," added the Vanguard. "However, someone else will need to deal with the sentry guns while I do this."

"Are you able to do this?" the Guardian asked the Hydra.

The Hydra stood without speaking and put his helmet back on. After fully reconnecting it to the rest of his suit he looked the Guardian in the eyes. "I am able," he said plainly before re-cloaking. The Guardian said nothing but rather stepped back and re-cloaked as well.

"It has been my highest honor, sir," said the Vanguard aloud to the Guardian as he moved forward into the clearing. Instantly, the sentry guns began firing upon him as fast as they could. Though his killscreen generator lessened their intensity, their blasts were still doing tremendous amounts of damage to him. Once the Vanguard was clearly established as their target, the Hydra quickly moved forward. After he got in range, his targeting display lit up before his eyes and his missile pods locked onto the two closest sentry guns. With a hateful sneer, he let loose a furious barrage upon them. Meanwhile, the Vanguard had reached the shrine which, by now, was assaulting him mercilessly with its heat beam. He forced himself to ignore the pain and raised his scythe. With an intense blow, he cut deeply into the shrine. The shrine shook from the force of his attack and continued to burn into him. The Vanguard swung his scythe again and made an equally deep cut. The Shrine was heavily damaged now and for a brief instant, the beam lost power. Around it, two of the three sentry guns exploded. The Hydra smiled at his handiwork and moved forward to assault the final gun. As he did, he could see that the Vanguard was bleeding out profusely and was not going to hold out for much longer. Back at the shrine, the Vanguard's cloaking device failed and his whole body caught fire as he connected with a third blow. The heat beam became very erratic, but still continued. Behind his mask, the Vanguard spat up a tremendous amount of blood and felt himself falter. Knowing that he was done, he summoned every last reserve of strength he had left and managed to swing his scythe one last time. The shrine shuddered from this fourth, and final, mighty blow before exploding violently. Almost at the same moment, the Hydra finished off the final sentry gun and the area went quiet. The Vanguard stood unmoving with his back to the rest of the group and leaned on his scythe as if it were a cane. For several seconds not a one of the group moved. The first of them to finally move was the Vanguard. He raised his scythe high above his head with one arm and roared out a cry of victory. When his cry was finished he fell face-forward to the ground, dead.

"I have never seen or known such courage and might," said the Hunter as he disengaged his cloaking device.

"Then you have never seen a Vanguard before," said the Guardian as he also de-cloaked. "Tell me what you see."

"As you command," said the Hunter as he began to explore the area.

"Guard the area," ordered the Guardian to the Hydra.

"I obey," said the Hydra as he cloaked again and began to walk the perimeter of the clearing.

Elsewhere, Xothax sat uncloaked in a large tree with the heads of his first three targets laid out before him, having just stripped them of their helmets again and gutting most of their remaining circuitry. Closing his eyes, he gave a short thankful prayer for the success of the start of his hunt. Once his prayer was completed, he opened his eyes and removed his discs from his belt. With careful consideration, he separated the three discs from one another and laid each out in front of the head it had taken with much ceremony. Then he removed his runed knife from its sheath slowly and deliberately. Holding the knife upright in front of him by the handle with one hand and pressing his other hand to the flat of the blade he said another short prayer. When that pray was concluded, he took his hand away from the flat of the blade and touched its tip to the forehead of the first Stalker. After a short pause he pulled the blade away and moved it down to the corresponding disc. With a single motion, he cut a notch into its center section. After another brief pause, he repeated the action with the second head and the second disc. After pausing again, he repeated the process a final time with the third head and the third disc. When he was finished he put the knife away, gathered up the discs, joined them back together, and reattached them to his belt. After that, he gathered up the three heads and set off again. "My hunt continues," he said with a smile.

**To be continued…**


End file.
